The Road Not Taken
by yumeyana
Summary: [AtobexFuji] There are roads in life and you can only take one. And sometimes, the road you take is the one you know won't make you happy but you did so nonetheless. Because there are things that are needed to be sacrificed.


**Author's Notes:** My second birthday fic for myself. And it's and AtoFuji! ::grins:: I so wanted to write this for a long time now but I didn't have the inspiration I needed. The good thing was, I had it a few hours ago and then I grabbed my pencil and wrote. I hope you like this.

**Dedication:** To Reeza, for doing the chores on my birthday.

**Disclaimers:** Tennis no Oujisama and all its characters belong to Konomi-sama. The Boys Be quote below doesn't belong to me either. Only the storyline is mine.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

**The Road Not Taken**

"Ne, what's the date that appears on the calendar only every four years?"

Atobe suddenly stopped scanning the endless faxed documents and looked at the source of the unexpected question.

"It's for an assignment. Sensei asked us to take note of what date appears once four years."

"The twenty ninth. February twenty nine."

The other beamed. "Thanks!"

Atobe nodded, turning his attention back to his financial reports. The other gathered his things as quietly as possible, once in a while glancing at Atobe.

"What?"

Eyes shot up. He scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. "I was just wondering what it feels like to have your birthday only once every four years. Won't that be too cruel?"

The boy had gathered all his things.

"Aa," he answered, adjusting his reading glasses.

A small smile. "Yeah. I think so, too."

Silence once again reigned in the room as his companion left the room. He sat there on his couch for sometime – not moving –the boy's question and reaction ringing in his mind. He took off his glasses and sighed.

_February twenty nine._

_Fuji Syusuke…_

He put down the documents and walked towards a cabinet. Upon opening a particularly locked drawer, he drew out a framed picture.

_Syusuke…_

It was a picture of him and Atobe, about eight years ago. It was his twenty fifth birthday and the tensai – as always – had taken a picture of them, Atobe's hands around Fuji's waist. It was one his most favorite pictures. Aquamarine eyes saddened visibly at the thought.

And unfortunately, this was their last picture together.

He ran his fingers on the framed picture, tracing Fuji's profile. And as he did so, memories came flooding back. Bittersweet memories of their times together – happy and content with just being together.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. It was the happiest ten years of his life.

He remembered how it happened, so clearly that it seemed like yesterday. He could feel the hatred – the pain of trying to understand why he shouldn't hate Atobe despite the fact that he was the one to blame for Tezuka's injury.

They were exchange students, Japan's finest pick for the year. It actually surprised Atobe that Tezuka wasn't the chosen one. He felt the surging hatred from Fuji as they found themselves sitting beside each other for the rest of the year. There was absolute contempt in those eyes. And written in them was the determination to stay away from Atobe as much as he could. Even if it would mean that he would be alone in that New York Senior High School.

Yet fate had always been unpredictable. Atobe and Fuji were assigned as roommates in their dormitory.

A light laugh escaped his lips. He walked towards the couch, mind still wandering through the threads of time.

It pretty much took off from there, he remembered. Little by little, wounds healed and a unique friendship was formed. And by the end of the year, they were practically best of friends.

They came home, friends. And in the course of their second year of senior high, the friendship began to turn in another direction. A road was opened.

It was sudden, unplanned.

They were walking in the park, just strolling as they watched the children play tag and the lovers watch the sun set. Suddenly, Fuji took his hand and smiled softly.

"_I want to be like them, Keigo. Happy and contented with one another."_

Their eyes met and no further questions were asked. It was like an encrypted message that only they could decipher. And they were happy to have known how to decode it.

But then, nothing in life was permanent. Not even their happiness.

Atobe's father had never approved their relationship but the young one did not care any less even if he was stripped off his inheritance. But then, his father died. And Atobe could not go against his father's last will and testament.

Atobe bit his lip, trying hard not to let his tears fall. He had gone through eight years without crying and he could do it now. He was Atobe Keigo. And ore-sama never cried.

He gulped. It was useless. The wounds didn't heal through time or through distance. There was no way to heal a broken heart.

He clutched the photo closer.

_Syusuke, are you still in Japan? Or have you gone around the world just like we planned before? _

_Do you still have that locket I gave you? Are you still wearing it?_

_Have you tried to forget me, the way I did?_

_Are you alone, thinking of me, too? Or are you with someone new?_

_Do you still love me, Syusuke?_

He heard footsteps approaching the study. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and hid the photograph. A head popped up as the door opened.

"Just one last question."

"Shoot."

"Do you know anyone who celebrates his or her birthday one February 29?"

Atobe's eyes turned a shade darker, sad and wistful.

"Yes, I do, Keiji."

The boy's bright blue eyes widened, curious. "Really? What's his name?"

"Syusuke. Fuji Syusuke."

_The one person…_

… _the only person…_

… _I have ever loved with all my heart._

Keiji smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

Atobe nodded. "Anytime, son. Anytime."

As Keiji left, he wished that he could turn back time and fix everything. He could have fought for his love for Fuji and never left his side. He could've fought for him, explained it to him and perhaps his father would've understood. And perhaps things would've turned out better.

He wouldn't have lived a lie.

He picked up the frame and was about to put it back when he saw something on the back of the frame. It was Fuji's handwriting.

"_No one can stop the flow of time. But a moment captured in the frame of the heart will never disappear. Deep within the heart, it will be displayed and it will forever touch the heart… sweetly, bitterly._

_I love you, Keigo."_

A bitter sweet smile escaped his lips. Fuji was right, Atobe thought. He couldn't stop time and press playback so he can fix everything. He couldn't do that even if he was Atobe Keigo.

All he could do was frame that one moment they spent together. And that photograph would serve as a reminder that once upon a time, he took that road. A road leading to Fuji.

Atobe put back the photograph. There were two roads that day. He made a decision and took the other road.

The road without Fuji.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Owari

::12:02a:: ::29Nov04::

::1098 words::


End file.
